Hufflepuffs on Firebolts
by RadicalReason
Summary: Tired of Hufflepuffs being looked down on, Hannah Abbott decides to get the Puffs some respect - by winning the House Cup. Looks like they'll need Firebolts. With help and hindrance from Eloise and Susan, she'll do whatever it takes to gain some Galleons.
1. And So Begins the Firebolt Fetish

Hufflepuffs on Firebolts

Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: Unless some **_**Freaky Friday**_** type thing happens to me and I end up in the body of Jo Rowling, I won't own Harry Potter.**

**I apologize in advance for the OOCness of Hannah Abbott and friends. Hannah is known to be very naïve in the HP books, but I like my Hufflepuffs better when they're a bit more spirited. ****Also, this is not a sequel to **_**Eloise Midgen and the Yule Ball**_**.** **Just assume that all of the events in EM and the YB never occurred. **

We, the Hufflepuffs, must get our hands on loads of Galleons, or perish. You may wonder how I have jumped to that conclusion. It's all rather simple. The other Houses have one thing in common: a similar disrespect for Hufflepuffs. They all look down on us, therefore we must prove ourselves.

To do this, we must win the House Cup for the first time in 89 years (though my dear friend Susan Bones has informed me that the only reason we won the House Cup 89 years ago was because both Slytherin and Gryffindor were disqualified for using Felix Felicis during a few of their Quidditch matches). To win the House Cup, we must either get loads of points from teachers by being our demure, and – I admit it – sometimes quite dull selves or we must beat the other Houses in Quidditch. To beat the other Houses in Quidditch, we must acquire several Firebolts. I personally don't know anyone who is cool enough to be able to steal us a bunch of Firebolts, therefore it is extremely rational to suggest that we try to make loads of Galleons to pay for said broomsticks.

When I mentioned my brilliant plan to Susan, I was preparing myself for over-the-top praises. But no, Susie had to go and be all _reasonable_.

"The problem isn't the broom, it's the guys who are riding them." Susan sat on the black-and-yellow rug with her knees pulled up to her chest.

"That sounded slightly dirty," commented Eloise in a bored tone.

We ignored her remark. "The Firebolt is supposed to be easy to handle," I pressed.

"_If you're good at flying_," Eloise said, unfastening her bag and dumping the contents out onto the floor. "I think we'd have a better chance of winning if we were the ones playing."

"Getting hit in the nose with a bludger isn't something you want. Your face is ugly enough as it is," said a very brave or very stupid third year. She stared at him for a minute. He glared back as if to say, _'What're you gonna do about it, huh?!' _

I watched in horror as she smiled widely. Her gray eyes were icy and fixed on the boy.

Susan shot me an uneasy glance.

The third year looked really scared now, practically trembling. He cowered in front of her, but she just kept on smiling.

"Congratulations!" I tried brightly. "You're incredibly scary and there's no need to be thinking about any punishment along the lines of castration right now."

"Shut up, Hannah!" Susan snapped. "Don't give her ideas."

The boy shifted uneasily as Eloise's creepily fixed grin widened even further. "Evan, right?" He nodded and Eloise continued. "How would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade this-"

She hadn't even finished that sentence when he bolted.

There was silence in the Hufflepuff common room as everyone turned to look at Eloise. "What would you do if he said yes?" asked Ernie with a smirk, looking up from his game of Gobstones.

She shrugged and collapsed onto a black armchair. "I'd probably ditch him in the Shrieking Shack or something."

"Knees closed," Susan said primly. "You're wearing a skirt, remember?"

Eloise scowled at her, but sat up, pressing her knees so close together that it looked like her thighs were about to burst out of her pantyhose.

"If you keep wearing those tiny skirts, someone's bound to notice," I said seriously.

"A _teacher_ is bound to notice. And not a cute male teacher," added Susan.

"There _are _no cute male teachers," Eloise sighed. "I wish Lupin was still here."

"We're talking about _Umbridge_."

"Umbridge can kiss my fat arse. She can give me detention all she wants, but I've had a growth spurt and now my skirts are too small. I got even pudgier during the summer!"

"Stop talking about your weight!" I groaned. "We have to focus on those Firebolts and the ways we can acquire them."

"You mean, _buying _them, right?" asked Susan, suspiciously. "With _Galleons, right? _You _are_ a Prefect, after all. You have a reputation to uphold."

"Dumbledore should have made you the Prefect; you know that," I told her with an eye-roll. "And yes, I was planning to _buy_ the brooms. It's been two years since the Firebolt first came out. The price is bound to have come down a little."

"They _were_ worth a fortune," said Eloise sulkily. "If the price went down a little since a few years ago, they'll probably be worth a little less than a fortune now."

"Do you always have to be so negative?!"

"I'm a realist, Hannah. I have actually asked for the price. The bloke in the store said that if I had to ask, I probably don't have enough."

"We can raise the money. It's a little thing called fundraising."

"Or we can use something just as effective to winning the cup: sabotage." Eloise grinned as she rifled through her Herbology book.

"I'm not going to resort to anything that low!" gasped Susan.

"Susie, I love you honey, but you have to _get over it_." Eloise was shaking Susan by the shoulders roughly with each word.

"I think we should get the Firebolts. We'll do whatever we can to get the money."

"I'm not becoming a prostitute," Susan said firmly.

"We can have bake sales, kissing booths, broom washes…" I continued, ignoring her.

"Or I can tutor people in History of Magic so that they don't fail," Susan said.

"You both sound like bloody idiots. Who'd wanna kiss me? And we can't bake anything for our lives," said Eloise grumpily.

"We should pay a visit to the kitchens."

"_If we knew where the kitchens were_," Susan said to me, uncharacteristically grumpily.

"And I, personally, think that the best way to get thousands of Galleons is to make Colin Creevy take embarrassing pictures of people and call it a yearbook," Eloise said sarcastically.

"Hey, that's not a bad idea."

ooooooo

Fred and George were innocently taking a stroll, when they were stopped by the sight of a third year Hufflepuff pushing past them, flailing his arms and sobbing everywhere. "I always thought Hufflepuffs were wimps," Fred said to his brother.

"What a rude thing to say, Freddy-boy. They aren't wimps - they're just slightly mad**,"** George replied. "Hey, kid!" He turned to the boy.

Apparently the boy was trying – and failing - to cry into the Bloody Baron's shoulder, but he went right through the Slytherin ghost and smacked his head on the stone of the walls. The Hufflepuff crumpled to the floor as the Baron turned to glide away, a disgusted look on his pale face.

"Hey, kid! What's wrong?" Fred reached out a hand to pull the Puff upright.

"THE PIMPLE MONSTER WANTED TO GO ON A DATE WITH ME!"

"Ahh," said Fred and George in unison.

"Ooh! That was cool," Fred said to his twin. "Let's do it again! This time we'll say 'sexy.'"

"Sexy," they chimed, grinning.

"So, kid… Eloise Midgen asked you out?" George asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"DO NOT SPEAK HER NAME," the boy rasped.

"So she asked you out…. What did you do to deserve that punishment?"

"He probably called her ugly," Fred sighed. "Have we taught you younglings nothing? You NEVER call Pim ugly! At least not to her face!"

"She probably doesn't even like you. Don't worry, girls don't like scrawny little gits like you. You're safe," George assured him.

The boy fell to his knees in front of George. "Thank you!" he gasped, kissing the hem of his robes and backing away slowly, bowing.

"That was weird."

**If you like it so far, please review or subscribe to the story. I love knowing that my stuff is being read!**


	2. Very THOUGHTFUL

**Thanks to all of my reviewers! Your comments made me smile. **

**DISCLAIMER: (I don't think I really need to put a disclaimer up or that anyone will take down this story if I don't put up a disclaimer. After all, this is **_**fan**_**fiction. But I'll continue to write disclaimers anyway.) DON'T OWN IT!**

**I would have posted this yesterday, but I had a paper to write. My spring break is officially over. **

_Hufflepuffs on Firebolts_

_Chapter 2_

"-bet she's a homophobe."

"Boys, what are you talking about?" I asked Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley, sliding into the seat across from them.

"I think Umbridge is a homophobe," Justin admitted shamelessly. His eyes sparkled. "She caught two Slytherins snogging in a broom cupboard and completely flipped out."

"He's wrong," cut in Ernie. "She's obviously a transvestite!" Half of the Hufflepuff table stared at Ernie because of this outburst. The other half was too busy sniggering into their oatmeal as they snuck glances at Umbridge. "Not that there's anything wrong with being a transvestite," Ernie said weakly to the people who were listening in.

Susan and Eloise joined us, sitting on either side of me.

"What if she's neither?" I asked.

"There's only one way to find out," Eloise said brightly. "We have to see her reaction about forming an LGBT group."

Susan buttered her toast and daintily took a bite, politely staying out of our conversation.

"So… who's gonna go and ask her?"

"Not it," Susan said quickly, holding up her piece of toast in objection.

"Nope," Ernie and Justin said, reaching for the same bowl of porridge.

"You do it," I told Eloise crossly, tearing a croissant in half.

"No way! Let's just forget about it."

"Where there's a will, there's a way," a voice said from somewhere over my head. I turned to see who it was. The Weasley twins were standing there. I knew our conversation wasn't really a private one, but I didn't know that the Gryffindors could hear us.

"Why do you care?" Susan was looking at him, dark suspicion in her eyes.

"Anything to do with Umbridge is something to do with us," Fred said.

I suddenly felt an urge to prove myself. Those twins probably thought we were wimps. "Actually," I said, "I'll do it." _Gryffindors are courageous… why can't Hufflepuffs be too? _

"What? Now?!" exclaimed Justin. "You are the bravest person I know." I smiled.

George shrugged, unimpressed. I wanted to rip that smirk off his face.

"I'll go to her office now and come back later."

"You do that," Eloise said, reaching for the bacon.

_ooooooo_

Ten minutes later I traipsed through the Great Hall, disgruntled and slightly appalled.

"What _happened_ to you?" gasped Eloise. T

"What did Umbridge say?" the twins asked eagerly.

"She said that the LGBT group was a GREAT idea and that she would LOVE to attend a meeting," I said dully.

"Was that _it_?" Ernie asked.

I sighed. This part was embarrassing. "She hugged me, giggled, then skipped away singing some Muggle song about kissing a girl."

Justin let out a sympathetic groan as George hooted. I felt a pressing need to do something involving my fist and that pretty little nose of his. Maybe then it'd be easier to tell the twins apart from a distance.

"I guess that answers our riddle," Eloise said, amusment lacing her voice. "She must be a lesbian."

"Not necessarily," Susie spoke up. "She could just be very big on social equity, gay rights in particular."

"Filch will be crushed," sniggered Ernie, ignoring Susan.

"His cat can comfort," I said wryly, not being able to contain my grin.

"Well, we've gotta go, you Puffs. See ya Pim, Suse, Justine, Ernest, Hannah," George muttered. Fred waved cheerily and the two of them wove their way back to their table.

"They aren't bad for Gryffindors." Eloise reached for a raisin-encrusted scone. "Aside from calling me Pim." She glowered.

"They're the enemy and they must be defeated," I growled, quickly switching from easy-going to determined. "Bloody beaters…. Too good at Quidditch," I muttered under my breath.

"Yeah, yeah," Sussan said dismissively, sounding a little like Elosie. "They're the enemy. Blah, blah, blah."

"Exactly!" I said, slamming my fist on the table.

"Ooh, aggressive," Eloise commented sarcastically. "I can definitely see from the way you hit that table that you mean business."

"You need to stop your 'We must win' attitude." Susan tried to reason with me, putting a hand on my arm.

"No, we need a plan," I said firmly. "How about we sell firewhiskey in our common room?"

"Hannah! _You. Are. A. Prefect!_" she practically bellowed at me. "And so is Ernie. If you got caught…" She tugged at the end of her plait nervously.

I rolled my eyes. "But I _won't_ get caught."

"How are you getting firewhiskey, anyway?" Susan asked.

"Well, that's a very practical question… which I don't know the answer to…."

"The house-elves probably have a stock of firewhiskey for the professors," Justin supplied helpfully.

"THANK YOU!" I shrieked, hopping up to hug him. "I gotta go now. You're awesome!" Justin was too blinded from my happy glow to notice Ernie glaring at him over the cheesy scrambled eggs.

ooooooo

"HEY… FRED! GEORGE!" I yelled down the hallway.

I watched as two heads whipped around. I ran to catch up with them, almost slipping on the newly-waxed floor.

George reached out a hand to steady me. "Thanks."

"What was it you wanted Miss Prefect?" Fred asked me.

"Well, I wanted to know where the kitchens were…"

"We have no clue what you are talking about. Enjoy your day." Fred turned away quickly and dragged his twin after him.

"I know you know!" I hollered after them.

I was rewarded by the sight of them both skidding to a stop and turning once more to face me. They walked back and planted themselves unyieldingly in front of me, like particularly tall, lanky, trees. "How do you know that we know?" Fred glared at me, crossing his arms over his chest.

I couldn't help letting a smile break free. I had a sudden 'AHA' moment. "So you admit that you do know!"

"Know what?" Fred narrowed his eyes.

"Where the kitchens are located."

"Why do you want to know?" Now George was glowering at me menacingly as well.

"My sixteenth birthday is coming up next week," I said airily. It wasn't a lie.

"Your sweet sixteen." Fred said, inclining his head regally, acknowledging this fact.

"Exactly." I smiled. "So I wanted to try some firewhiskey with my friends in our dorm and was wondering if the house-elves had some."

"I admit that we know where the kitchens are," George said, head held high. "But how do you know that we know? Who told you?"

"A Gryffindor let it slip to me when he was bragging about the great parties you throw when you win a Quidditch match," I said nonchalantly.

"We want NAMES."

I struggled to keep my face straight. "Lee Jordan."

"You LIE!" Fred shouted as George screeched, "He WOULDN'T!"

"He would and he did," I said calmly. "Now, before you go and beat the crap out of him, show me where the kitchens are. Please."

"Fine," George finally said after a minute of glaring into my face, hands on his hips. I got a slight shock when I realized how close we were. In a second his expression transformed from a mock glare to sly and playful. I felt his breath brush my cheeks as he leaned in to look at me directly in my eyes. "And may I be the first to wish you a sweet sixteen."

I felt my face glowing and thought, '_Oh, no!' _when I realized that I was probably turning an extremely unnatural color. I couldn't breathe for a moment. Air was trapped inside my chest and if I had exhaled, I had a feeling it would sound humiliatingly loud, so I forced myself to keep eye contact. I was _furious_. I noticed that Fred was very pointedly staring at the cracks in the wall as he was trying to decipher a code as George _finally_ backed away. _It was very THOUGHTFUL of him_, I started to think sarcastically, grinding my teeth. But then I focused myself on what had to be done.

The task for now was to find the kitchens. Then I would have to get the firewhiskey, sell the firewhiskey, get the Firebolts (hopefully plural), beat the Gryffindors, and (most importantly) gloat.

I couldn't let anything get in the way of this.

* * *

**I sincerely apologize if my jokes about LGBT and Umbridge at the beginning have insulted you (I was extremely worried while editing and almost decided to rewrite the chapter). I like to think of myself as a very open-minded person, and I only intended to make fun of Umbridge, as she is very close-minded about werewolves and other "half-breeds" so I doubt that her actual character is gay. And of course, I made Umbridge very OOC. I know that many people do not like characters that are OOC, so I am sorry for that as well.**

**I will try to make this fanfic compatable to _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_, as there are certain events that I would love to include in this story.**

**Reviews would be great. I want to know how I'm doing with this story and I'd also like to know how much you think a Firebolt costs (in Galleons). I have a number in mind, but I'm not too sure about it. **

**-R**


	3. Like a Prefect

**I found… a Harry Potter currency converter! I didn't think that they actually existed… I guess they do. Thanks to everyone who subscribed or reviewed. You've made me very happy because I know that people are actually reading this!**

**I also added chapter titles! Because I like chapter titles.  
**

**DISCLAIMER: Must I say it?**

_Hufflepuffs on Firebolts_

_Chapter 3_

"FIREWHISKEY! GET YOUR FIREWHISKEY HERE!" I bellowed. "ONLY TEN GALLEONS A BOTTLE! SATISFACTION GUARANTEED."

"NO FREE SAMPLES!" Eloise screeched at a second year, who was now clapping his hands over his ears. "THE NEXT TIME SOMEONE ASKS I WILL PERSONALLY KILL THEIR PET BUNNY, WHICH THEY ACTUALLY AREN'T ALLOWED TO HAVE HERE. CATS, TOADS, AND OWLS ONLY, PEOPLE!"

"Don't scare off the customers," muttered Susan out of the corner of her mouth as Eloise started ranting.

"I DON'T CARE IF HAVING A LITTLE WHITE BUNNY IS '_COOL_' OR '_IN_' RIGHT NOW. YOU WON'T HAVE A BUNNY TO WORRY ABOUT POOPING ON YOUR PILLOW ANYMORE BECAUSE I WILL PERSONALLY STRANGLE IT WITH YOUR FOOTIE PAJAMAS IF YOU DON'T STOP ASKING ABOUT FREE SAMPLES!"

_At least this little rant of hers actually has a point_, I sighed.

Already we had sold over seventy bottles. My plan was working beautifully, but I still didn't think we had nearly enough Galleons for one Firebolt.

"SHOW YOUR SUPPORT OF OUR QUIDDITCH TEAM! BUY A BOTTLE AT A BARGAIN FOR TEN GALLEONS! BUY THREE BOTTLES AND GET A FOURTH FOR FREE! A THREE-GALLEON DISCOUNT FOR ALL HUFFLEPUFF QUIDDITCH TEAM PLAYERS! ALL MONEY GOES TO BUYING FIREBOLTS FOR OUR TEAM! DONATIONS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!"

I had Ernie helping me with my sales pitch and sent Justin off to find out how much those Firebolts cost.

oooooooo

Justin returned, wheezing and coughing. Sweat poured from his face and his hair was plastered to his forehead. It was actually kind of cute the way the damp ends curled upward.

"The results?" I asked nervously, wringing my hands behind my back.

"FIVE-" he panted.

"GET YOUR FIREWHISKEY HERE! TEN GALLEONS PER BOTTLE! IT'S A BARGAIN FOR ANYONE WHO'S UNDERAGE!" I had to admire the way that Ernie kept pitching our product. He's very determined.

"Five Galleons?" said Susan skeptically.

"FIVE THOUSAND."

"Well, that's not too bad," I said, trying to sound optimistic.

"WOULD YOU LIKE A BOTTLE? …HERE, HAVE ONE! JUST TEN GALLEONS. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PURCHASE. ENJOY!"

"EACH," Justin clarified, speaking over Ernie's thunderous voice. "Five thousand Galleons EACH."

Eloise slumped to the floor, putting her head in her hands. Even Ernie stopped advertising.

"Excuse me…" A timid first year girl patted Eloise's shoulder. "Could I please have a sample?"

"Sod off," Eloise said weakly, not even bothering to raise her head to glare at the girl.

The first year let out a squeak of fright and fled. She must have seen that thing with the third year boy the other day. Lucky for her, Eloise was too tired to terrorize children – even ones who were trying to take advantage of her.

"How're we gonna get thirty-five thousand Galleons?" I groaned.

"I just made a sale…" Ernie said feebly.

Susan cleared her throat uneasily. "Well, we've made 730 Galleons so far. There are still a few more Hufflepuffs who haven't yet heard about us selling firewhiskey. We can give them a few days to get through those bottles and then they'll be back for more…"

"We could sell to _all_ of the Houses."

Susan sighed, getting tired of my plans. "Look, if we sell to all of the Houses, other teachers will hear about it. We can't keep Snape, McGonagall, and Flitwick from hearing about this as well as Sprout. It just _cannot _be done. You're a PREFECT. You should not be promoting under-age drinking, even if it is for a _nearly_ decent cause." She wrinkled her nose slightly. I could tell that she didn't think of the cause as decent, or even _nearly_ decent, at all.

"Susan," I said sweetly, "you want Hufflepuff to win the House Cup, don't you?"

"Yes."

I smiled and continued. "Of course you do. And in order for us to win, we need those Firebolts. You understand, right?" I was speaking with such sugar laced in my voice that I was practically choked with globs of sweetness in the back of my throat. Or maybe that was phlegm. I cleared my throat and said again, "You're going to help us, right?"

"Fine," she said, rather crossly.

"Wonderful!" I said, clapping my hands together and turning to my other cohorts. "The firewhiskey is selling really well, but we need to up our sales pitch a notch. Make signs! Be creative! Work your magic! We also need to find a way to sell firewhiskey to the other Houses without arousing suspicion from their Heads of Houses or Prefects. The Head Girl and Head Boy can_not _know about this."

"I say that we don't sell firewhiskey to Slytherins. They'd definitely tell Snape," whispered Susan, finally taking part in my schemes. Or maybe she was just trying to watch our backs. "The Ravenclaws are also too smart to not suspect our true motives. I don't think we should sell to them either. We have to make a list of all of the students who we can sell firewhiskey to who are in different Houses. It'll take a lot of time, but we need to take these necessary precautions. They have to be people who like things that are against the law, have enough money to buy a lot of firewhiskey, aren't blabbermouths, and either aren't smart enough to tell or don't want to."

"We need to be underhanded and sneaky. Got it." Eloise grinned. "This'll be fun."

ooooooo

"Hey," George called to me.

"Yeah?" I said tensely.

"We've heard…" began Fred.

"That you're selling firewhiskey to underage kids," finished George.

"Who did you hear that rumor from?" I asked casually.

"I think we'd better talk privately," said Fred seriously.

_Ooh. Privately. _I raised an eyebrow at them, but agreed.

They marched me through the corridor not inconspicuously at all - one twin on each side. The three of us were like an Oreo cookie. I was the delicious, mouthwatering filling and the twins were the outer chocolate cookies.

"In," commanded George roughly, yanking open the door to an empty classroom. It was dark – the fireplace had probably burned out long ago. I could still smell the smoky scent that was trapped in here.

I pulled out my wand from the back pocket of my jeans and muttered, "Lumos." Both twins did the same.

They prowled back and forth in front of the teacher's desk. "Take a seat, Miss Abbott."

I sat on top of a desk in the front row, letting my legs dangle carelessly. I held my wand aloft so I could see their faces, which had previously been drowned in sinister shadows.

_Wow. Ambiance._ I fought to keep my composure. There were few things that were more embarrassing than breaking out into hysteric giggles while trying to make witty remarks. With those twins around, I would definitely need to save my breath for humorous, cool comebacks.

There were a few seconds of silence, while I waited for either of them to read me a list of my crimes.

"Did you hear that, George?" Fred whispered suddenly.

"Yeah, I did," George whispered back.

There was a creaking noise coming from the back of the classroom.

_They're probably trying to freak me out_, I thought, trying to ease my fluttering heartbeat.

"What is that noise," I croaked. Feet scuffling along. "We should go…"

I turned around, swinging my legs to the other side of the desk, towards the sounds.

Something was jabbed into my back. "Walk, Hannah." I was being held at wandpoint.

I was guessing it was George, but was too weary to ask.

I hopped off the desk and slowly, cautiously walked to the back of the classroom. I held my own wand at chest height in front of me and took a few shuffling steps.

A long, low moaning sound rattled my bones. Creepy. It was close.

I lowered my wand, letting light spill onto the floor – only it wasn't the floor. It was a moving pile of bodies in Ravenclaw robes.

I let out my breath and said, with as much authority as I could muster, "Get out now before I call Flitwick – or worse, Umbridge." I wouldn't actually call _Umbridge_ – of course. But they didn't know that. "They'd write you up in a second for misconduct."

The pile shifted and two Ravenclaws stood. "We weren't doing anything," said the brown-haired boy.

"Yeah, well before you go telling that to a teacher or your Head, you should straighten your robes, fix the girl's hair, and wait for the swelling of both of your lips to go down. Got it?"

The blonde girl scowled at me and pulled the boy along with her, out of the door – probably to find an unoccupied room.

I felt... like a Prefect. A LOT like a Prefect. The way I handled that _situation_ was superb! But I suppose there was the small matter of me selling Firewhisky to little kids that made me seem more like... a Weasley twin. And it was strangely exciting.

"I remember when we were young and stupid," said Fred dreamily.

"I guess they still haven't discovered that the best place to snog or do more than snog is in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom – if they don't mind the constant wailing of Myrtle," said George with a grin.

I almost started wailing, myself, from the insensitivity of the two boys.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" I snapped.

"We know what you're trying to do," Fred said mysteriously.

"And what exactly is it that you think I'm trying to do?" I asked sharply. They _couldn't_ know about the firebolts… could they?

"You are selling firewhiskey at ten Galleons per bottle."

"Who told you?" I said resignedly.

They turned to each other and grinned.

"I want NAMES," I said, then realized what I sounded like. "Please," I added as an afterthought.

"Lee Jordan."

"I should have known," I muttered darkly.

"Yeah, you should have," said Fred with a triumphant smile.

"Anyway, we went down to the kitchens after we heard this bit of scandalous news, and found that all of the bottles of firewhiskey, except one, were gone," George said grimly. "You lied! You told us that your birthday was coming up!"

"It is. In four days."

"Fine. Whatever. You used that as an excuse. Now you have thousands of Galleons-"

"No, only 730," I interrupted.

He ignored me and continued, "-and you have ripped us off. We want 50 percent of your profits."

"No," I said stubbornly.

"Have it your way," Fred said loftily.

"But know this: Never mess with the Weasley twins," Fred and George yelled.

"Hey, that was cool," I said. "Say 'sexy.'"

"Sexy," they said in unison, grinning.

"Thanks," I grinned back. "I know I am."

They paused and stared at each other in confusion. By the time I had my hand on the doorknob, they were finally yelling, "HEY! YOU SET US UP!"

"Bye boys!" I said with a little finger wave.

**10 Galleons – about $48.22 (32.17 pounds) (I know it may seem like a lot of money for firewhiskey, but they're selling to underage kids who probably wouldn't be able to get their hands on any. Plus, it's a whole bottle.)**

**5,000 Galleons – about $24,107.58 (16,082.44 pounds)**

**35,000 Galleons – about $168,753.06 (112,577.09 pounds)**

**I THINK those numbers are right… So… according to that data, do you think that the Firebolt should cost 5,000 Galleons? And how many (if any) Firebolts do you think the Hufflepuff girls (ha, that sounds like 'Powerpuff Girls') should be able to buy? Review!**

**-R**


	4. Birthdays and Bourbon

**DISCLAIMER: Refer to previous disclaimers.**

**I'm terrible for not updating! Everyone who has this story on story alert has probably forgotten the whole plot and completely lost interest. You might need to reread the previous chapters. –cringes- I'm so sorry! I can feel the subscriptions dwindling away already.**

_Hufflepuffs on Firebolts_

_Chapter 4 _

**FIREWHISKEY FOR FIREBOLTS!**

**SUPPORT UNDERAGE DRINKING! SUPPORT YOUR QUIDDITCH TEAM!**

**FIREWHISKEY: THE NEW WATER!**

I was proud of these signs. Each slogan was neatly written across pitch black posters in yellow letters. Susan had even gotten fancy with her sign and made scratch-'n-sniff stickers of firewhiskey bottles to border her lettering with. And, hopefully no one had noticed the sarcasm in Eloise's 'SUPPORT UNDERAGE DRINKING! SUPPORT YOUR QUIDDITCH TEAM!' motto. I stuck a few of Susan's stickers on this poster so that, hopefully, most of our customers would be too preoccupied with the scent to worry about reading everything.

Justin and Ernie had teamed up to make sure that adults and people from other Houses couldn't read the posters. In the end, Susan had to help them with that. To anyone other than Hufflepuff students the signs read:

**A CLEAN DORMITORY LEADS TO A HEALTHY LIFESTYLE! **

**JOIN THE INQUISITORIAL SQUAD TODAY!**

**SKIRTS THAT DO NOT REACH MID-THIGH ARE HEREBY BANNED, ELOISE MIDGEN! **

If any teenage Hufflepuff boys could read that last sign, there would be a lot more staring at Eloise. Luckily, they couldn't and Eloise was blissfully unaware of what any professors would see if they wandered into the Hufflepuff common room.

Even since that last encounter with the Weasley twins, things were still going well. But I was worried about that last threat.

"Never mess with the Weasley Twins."

ooooooo

My sweet sixteen was normal so far. Normal could be good sometimes. There can be no disasters that you are unaware of and that can be comforting. But normal means that there are no surprising surprises. Normal is boring.

As usual, I woke up to the clatter of dishes being broken as Ernie tried to bring me a tray of breakfast. It seems like every year he's so excited for my birthday that he forgets about the stairs and goes sliding down. It has become something of a sport for all of the girls in our House to watch and taunt him. Some of them wait in the common room to get a better view of his arse, while others like to see his startled face as he claws at the smooth surface.

Justin came in right on time with his own tray. He had one of the Ernie Eyers carry the tray up to me as I yelled my thanks to both of them.

Susan was the first person to give me my present. Every year Eloise vows to beat her, but she can sleep through anything – even the sounds of girls jeering at Ernie.

Susan hopped onto the edge of my bed, sitting upright, as if there were a stick down her back, and handed me two neatly wrapped boxes. She shifted nervously, watching as I opened them. Inside the first was a small dark blue purse filled with a few Galleons. "It can be yours to spend or you can donate it towards getting those Firebolts."

At first, I thought the second box might contain a book. It was actually a photo album bound in black dragon hide. She had owled my parents for some pictures of me growing up and got some photos of Susan, Eloise, and me together.

I almost didn't see it at first, but when I lifted out the photo album, I saw that beneath it was another photo album. It wasn't bound in the same fancy black leather, but I smiled when I read the cover.

_A Yearbook_

_Or…_

_Embarassing Photos of People_

"I got Colin Creevy to cough up some pretty fantastic pictures. This is definitely blackmail-worthy stuff right here."

"You are eviler than I give you credit for," I replied, raising an eyebrow.

She glowed with my praise and stopped fidgeting.

After I ate my breakfast, Eloise finally woke up and got her present out from under her bed.

"Someday I should just get it out from under there while you're asleep. You have bad hiding places," I informed her as I buttered a slice of toast.

"You won't be able to rip the wrapping paper open without me. It's a Semi-Permanent Sticking Charm that only I can remove," she bragged.

I opened the card first. It was awkwardly-written, as always, but very sweet. "Y'know, you don't really have to write a card. Susie never does."

She shrugged.

There were two packages, stacked on top of each other. The first package held at least fifty chocolate frogs that I shared with the two of them (but I forced them to hand over any chocolate frog cards that I didn't have). I barely remembered to rip open the second package.

It was a mini model of a Firebolt with a little figure sitting atop it. The person turned sharply, blond hair whipping in her face. It was me. All of her features were almost precisely mine. I almost gasped when I saw it.

Justin got me a gift card to _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_. It was obvious that he and Ernie had no clue what to get me, but it was the thought that counted.

Ernie claimed that he wanted to get me a locket with a bit of Umbridge's hair in it, but he couldn't get close enough to her and he thought buying me just a locket would make me think he was a prat. Instead, he gave me a copy of _What in Merlin's Name are Girls Thinking?!_ as a joke and some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

As it was every year just after I received my birthday presents, everyone left to go eat breakfast and I, who had already eaten, was left in the girl's dormitory. I stood up and crossed the room, about to go meet them in the Great Hall. The reflection in a mirror caught my interest and I stopped.

My face was kind of pink, but had now lost the rest of the babyish roundness. I was kind of average looking. My hair was still blond, just a slightly darker shade, and would remain that color unless I got a sudden urge dye it to green for Slytherin pride or something. Familiar pigtails held my long hair away from my face. Unlike my hairstyle, my personality had changed a lot. I had been a timid, naïve, chocolate-frog-card-collecting girl. Now I was just a slightly abnormal chocolate-frog-card-collecting girl. I think it must have been the constant "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" shouts from the fake Moody.

"Are you _really_ leaving your hair like that?" said the mirror in an extremely reedy voice, quite like Hermione Granger's (except way more fashion-conscious).

I ignored it, sighing and left to meet up with my friends in the Great Hall.

ooooooo

Was that a bottle I saw that little Gryffindor first year swigging from? I swear I saw a fourth year sipping from a flask.

Whenever I saw Fred and George they were encompassed by an entourage of Gryffindors of all ages with grins on their faces and a metallic clinking emanating from them. I saw hands full of gold slipping into jingling pockets and I actually heard George whistling – WHISTLING – as I passed.

I asked a third year Hufflepuff if he would like a bottle of firewhiskey and he said that he was already well-stocked, then stumbled away, obviously intoxicated. What kind of fourteen-year-old doesn't want more alcohol? I was almost considering finally giving out free samples to lure them over.

"Fred, George, I have to talk to you two," I muttered to them once their cloud of followers had floated away.

"Time is Galleons," George said jauntily, shaking his pockets, making the coins inside jingle annoyingly.

"Have you or have you not been stealing our customers?" I asked accusingly.

"Miss Abbott, how could you ask such a thing?" he said, mock-scandalized.

"There's been a lot of evidence," I said, grinding my teeth. How DARE they steal my idea?!

George sighed. "We've been selling firewhiskey, just like you – only at _nine_ Galleons per bottle."

"I can't believe you did this," I murmured, trying to calm myself.

"Yes you can." Fred beamed at me widely and I wanted to smack his face really hard.

I clenched my fists and waited for the two of them to finish gloating.

"You didn't want to become business partners, so Fred and I decided that we would start our own business. We've made more than a thousand Galleons so far, thanks to you. We would never have thought of this without you." George blew me a kiss and the two of them started to swagger away.

"Wait!" I said quickly, thinking fast. They stopped and came back. "This is for a really good cause. You have to understand."

"Explain the cause and we might," Fred said, voice infuriatingly smooth.

"I can't," I blurted before I could stop myself. Great. Now their interest would be perked and they would find out. "But would you like to give me a birthday present?" It was an abrupt change in subject, and I hoped they wouldn't notice.

"We aren't going to donate to a cause we don't even know about," George laughed. "We may not be geniuses, but that doesn't mean we're completely thick."

"Today's my sweet sixteen and I haven't gotten any presents yet," I lied, hoping they'd forget about the firewhiskey.

"Well then, happy birthday," Fred said dismissively, flopping his hand in my general direction.

"I think that Hannah deserves more than just a 'Happy Birthday,'" George said suddenly. "After all, a sweet sixteen isn't JUST a birthday." He was standing right in front of me, face close to mine. A mixture of dread – and possibly something else that frightened me even more - filled me up, practically seeping out of my pores. "How about a sweet sixteen kiss?" His voice was low and gravelly and the warmth of his breath mingling with mine felt nice.

His lips brushed against mine, tingly and gentle. Before I could stop myself, I had tried to push him away and shouted, "NO!"

He looked a little surprised (I don't know if it was at me or at himself), but sniggered, giving me one last amused glance as he and his brother sauntered away.

I took long breaths, steadying myself. Yes, I had been a bit dramatic with the "NO!" (it was barely a peck, after all) but I didn't want to be kissed _right there_ with his brother watching. The way he sniggered afterward made me feel like I had just taken some sort of cruel test. That he was willing to give away a kiss so easily annoyed me. It WAS NOT okay to go around kissing girls and making them all confused like this. I had been kissed before, but Ernie's lips had been hard and pressuring. At least George's were soft.

I suddenly felt disgusted with myself.

_Look at me, Hannah Abbott, judging people based on their lips. _

**I'm horrible for not updating for so long. And this chapter kind of sucks. Definitely my least favorite so far. You may now use Caps Lock to yell at me. **

**Anyway, I was thinking that the Puff Girls should get used Firebolts. But I guess if I want this story to be compatible with OotP, the Hufflepuffs won't get ANY brooms. What do you think? I'm stuck. I should have thought the plot out better.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed so far! Silverbirch, froggyparty96, bizarreee, TheFictionGeeksOfDoom, rowan-greenleaf, Winney492 (you should get a fanfiction account), wordpainter007, superstarsvtn, I Dance Alone, IH8Abbreviations, and MidnightxRed. Your reviews make me laugh and smile. **


	5. The Power of Umbridge's Blush

**DISCLAIMER: Stole girl & basket idea from Gilmore Girls. Sadly. Not brilliant enough to come up with it on my own.**

_Hufflepuffs on Firebolts_

_Chapter 5_

"I have called this emergency meeting to order to discuss the threat of the Weasley twins to our moneymaking scheme."

"I can understand that, Hannah," Eloise's low, slightly harsh voice murmured, "but why the hell are we in a broom closet?"

"We can't risk being heard," I said sharply to a vague outline in the dark.

"We could have just soundproofed an unused classroom," whined Susan's slightly high-pitched voice. "It's a lot less official if we're sitting here in a dark and cramped area.

"Okay, let's do that," I said. "Sorry 'bout sitting on you, Justin. You haven't lost all feeling in your legs, I hope."

"Nope, I'm good!" a lower, male voice responded cheerfully from somewhere behind my head. I heard a scoff somewhere to my left. I awkwardly stood up and pushed the door open with a little difficulty.

"This meeting will be postponed until we find a new location," I called formally, before briskly striding out.

ooooooo

Once we had checked all the dark corners of the classroom for any infestations of couples and soundproofed and locked the door securely, our meeting began.

"Now, I have called this emergency meeting to order to discuss the threat of-"

Susan slapped a hand over my mouth. "Hannah. You don't have to restate whatever it is you called the meeting for. We've already heard it. Let's move on," She said calmly.

"The obvious thing to do would be to lower the prices," Ernie suggested, leaning on a nearby table.

"Yeah, and I bet that's obvious to the Weasley twins, too. They'd probably throw in some of their trick wands and sweets," Justin argued.

"You both contribute excellent points," I praised them. They gave me wide smiles.

"Hannah, stop talking like that. It's ticking me off," grumbled Eloise, who was lying down on the teacher's desk, barely noticing the essays that spilled onto the floor.

"Fine," I said grumpily, pacing in front of her. "So, what do _you_ think we should do?"

"Well," she said slowly, "how about we cut off their supplies. We can bribe the house-elves to not give them any firewhiskey."

"That's a really not terrible idea," I said, surprised. "But what do house-elves like?"

"I have no idea," Eloise replied, shrugging carelessly.

I let disapproval darken my tone, "It's now your job to find out." She groaned and sat up. I was starting to enjoy my new ringleader-like authority. "Anyone else have any ideas?"

"Yeah," Susan said. "How about we raffle off baskets of sweets and baked goods?"

Justin laughed at this. "Yes, biscuits are amazing and so are brownies, but still…."

"You could raffle off girls," Ernie said with a grin.

"No prostitution!" Susan shrieked.

"How about we raffle off girls _with_ baskets. It'll be a picnic date or something," I compromised.

"Who would be raffled off?"

"Um, us three and as many other Hufflepuff girls as we can get."

Justin groaned again. "There aren't many hot Hufflepuff girls."

Susan, Eloise, and I glowered at him.

"Except for you three," he added hurriedly. He knew us long enough to understand that to insult a girl's looks called for excruciating pain.

"His point is," continued Ernie quickly, saving his friend, "that we should get Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins to be raffled off, too."

"But the other Houses will be wondering where the hell the money's going," Susan said, eyebrows furrowed.

"So we lie and say that the money goes to get Hagrid a bigger chair that has more room for his bum. We'll just perform an Engorging Charm on the chair and polish up the battered wood a bit," I said simply, pleased at this sudden idea.

"You think Dumbledore and Umbridge will be okay with that?"

"Yeah, we just have to ask them…"

ooooooo

"What _do_ house-elves like?" Eloise was bothering me with that question again.

"You're supposed to be the one to find that out, Eloise," I muttered, turning the page of my Potions textbook idly with a flick of my wand. "Just go to the kitchens and ask them. Grab a few bottles of firewhiskey while you're at it. We need to restock. Hey, Susan? You understand any of this crap?"

"Huh?" she looked up from the book and roll of parchment she'd been taking notes on.

"Come here," I said, beckoning her. "Does this say 'Add shredded Boomslang skin and wait for the _kiss_'?"

"No, it says 'wait for the hiss' you dolt! I can't believe you called me here for _that_!"

I ignored Eloise's snigger and said, "Sorry. My eyes are getting tired. I hate studying. It's just useless memorization!"

"Calm down, Hannah. The O.W.L.s will be _fine_. Just remember to sleep and study whenever you aren't."

"One more thing, Susie!" I said quickly. "Can I borrow your History of Magic notes?"

"Fine, but don't spill any pumpkin juice on it this time. If you do I might just have to strangle you with my bare hands and then bring you back and force you to give me a manicure because my cuticles are all yucky."

"Wow, scary. Death by strangulation and manicure-giving."

She glowered at me.

I snatched the notes swiftly from her hands. That prissy girl could be crazy scary if she wanted to. "Thanks!" I bared my teeth, eyes not crinkling with the half-smile, then let my face settle into a normal expression.

I gathered an inkwell, quill, and spare parchment and started copying it down, trying to keep my handwriting even and clear.

"You guys are so boring!" Eloise complained.

"Yep," I replied absentmindedly, dotting an 'i' very carefully.

She smacked my shoulder hard. My hand jerked and slid over the parchment, smearing the ink. "What the hell was that for?! You ruined my notes!"

"You have to stop being so boring!" she repeated.

"We're studying," Susan replied from a nearby table. "And don't be so violent. Guys don't like violent girls."

Eloise rolled her eyes.

"Hey, Eloise," I began mock-brightly, "why don't you join us? We could always use another study buddy."

She paled. I don't think I've ever seen her study. "No way. I'm outta here. I gotta find out what house-elves like. See ya later!"

Once we were sure she was gone, I breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally!"

Susan smiled. "I didn't think she was ever going to go away."

"I told you never to doubt my studying skills," I countered with a grin.

"I never shall again," she replied solemnly.

"So how many girls have signed up for the raffle thing?"

"A lot," she said, allowing herself a grin. "I can be really persuasive. Some of them were too afraid to say no, and a lot of them were young girls who thought their Prince Charming would get them and their basket. Here's the list." She shoved it toward me.

I looked over the names. "I don't know half of these people."

"Yeah," she replied. "They're mostly second years, I think. I tried to get Hermione Granger to sign her name, but she said that even if it was for a good cause, she wasn't going to sell herself. Prostitution is horrible."

"Yes," I said slowly. "Prostitution is _bad_."

"Hey! Don't make fun of me!"

"I wouldn't dare, Susie!" I cried, scandalized.

She stuck her tongue out at me. "So what was up with the 'kiss-hiss' thing earlier? Were you just acting or did you really think that 'hiss' looked like 'kiss'?"

"The letter 'H' can sometimes look like the letter 'K' if they aren't capitalized," I defended myself weakly.

"Uh huh, sure," she said disbelievingly. "You've recently been kissed, haven't you?"

"Wha-"

"Was it Justin? I've been telling him to do something about his feelings for you for ages!"

"He-"

"For a while he really thought that you and Ernie were together."

"Er-"

"Oh, oops. Did you want to say something?"

"Yeah. Justin didn't kiss me."

"Then who did?" Susan was practically jumping out of her seat. She came over and sat on my chair's arm.

"George did."

Susan peered into my eyes suspiciously. "George who?"

Had she already forgotten about her reckless teasing? Maybe she didn't really mean it. Maybe George never liked me after all.

"OHHHH!" I heard her long exhale and turned my head to face hers. "George Weasley." Her face was thoughtful. Then she grinned. "He must like you!"

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why does he like me?" I wasn't fishing for complements or anything… Just curious….

"Because you're cute and smart and nice and funny-" I almost groaned at the broadness of Susan's answer. There were tons of girls who are cuter, smarter, and funnier than I. Some of those girls were even in the same year – and were probably Gryffindors who shared more time with him than I.

"Let me rephrase: How do you know he likes me?"

Susan's smile disappeared, but was replaced by a dreamy expression. Her eyes smiled at me as she said, "I don't know exactly what it is. It might be the way he treats you or the way he says your name. Don't ask me. I'm no expert."

I rolled my eyes, but smiled anyway. "You're a lot more positive then Eloise would be."

"So how was it?" she asked eagerly after a second.

"How was what?"

"The kiss!"

"Uh, I really don't know." My face got all hot and the smile somehow grew without my permission.

Her eyebrows rose. "You don't KNOW?"

"It was for barely a second. He just brushed his lips on mine."

"He brushed his lips across yours?"

"Well, it must have been just a joke to him…" I trailed off. If it had been a joke, I was a real idiot for pondering over it.

"A joke?" There were creases in her forehead, eyes so wide that it looked like they were about to burst out of their sockets.

"Stop repeating what I say as a question!"

"A question?"

"I'm not kidding!"

"Sorry. You're just fun to annoy." A sneer appeared on her face. "I can see why Eloise hangs out with you."

"Shut up," I mumbled, not really meaning it.

"You know you don't really mean that," she replied seriously.

I shoved her lightly, making her almost topple off of the arm of my chair. She steadied herself. "So, do you think you might like George back?"

I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. "I have no freaking idea."

"Maybe he'll buy a raffle ticket for a date with you and your basket…" she said hopefully.

"Or maybe he won't."

"Turn that frown upside down!" she yelled perkily.

"O the cons of having an optimistic friend," I wailed poetically, beating my fists on my armchair.

"At least you have me, your pessimistic friend," said a voice I recognized as Eloise's. She was clutching two bottles of firewhiskey in each hand. "We might have to take a few more trips to the kitchens to get more," she said, shrugging. I assumed she was talking about the whiskey.

"So, what did the house-elves say they liked?" asked Susan.

"I spoke to a house-elf called 'Dobby' and he likes mismatched socks, a house-elf called Winky, Harry Potter, and small wages."

"Interesting fellow."

"Yep," she agreed instantly. "I asked him if they would not give the twins any more firewhiskey and he agreed."

"But there's a catch, right?"

"We have to keep butterbeer away from Winky and if she happens to get her hands on some, we have to wait with her until she gets sober again. We also have to make sure she doesn't do anything out of control."

"Great," I mumbled. "Now we have to deal with a drunken house-elf."

"Can't be too difficult, right? How many people have signed up for the raffle so far?"

"Thirty-three," I supplied, "including us. Each raffle ticket will be worth a Galleon."

"No one's going to buy raffle tickets for me," Eloise said miserably.

"Of course they will," I said as brightly as I could, making a mental note to tell Ernie and Justin to buy up a lot of tickets for her.

Now all that was left was to ask Umbridge for permission…

ooooooo

"You go talk to her," I muttered.

"No," Eloise whispered back, "YOU go."

"I talked to her last time – she _hugged_ me, remember?" The memory still haunted me.

"She _likes_ you. She'll say yes."

I stared at her for a long moment. "Fine."

It was after another pointless Defense Against the Dark Arts class and I was about to go back in. Eloise gave me the thumbs-up for encouragement, but I didn't feel any better.

"Excuse me Professor?" I said, standing in front of her desk.

Her wide face twisted in a creepy smile – beady eyes fixed on me. "Yes, dear?"

I tried not to grimace. "I was thinking that we should have more inter-House activities."

"That is a SPLENDID idea," her girlish voice proclaimed. She set down the pink quill she had been using to grade papers to give me her full attention.

"Well, I decided that we should have a fundraiser for new quills, books, and that type of thing. My first idea was that we could raffle off baskets of goodies and biscuits and other baked goods as well as a date with a girl."

Her eyebrows rose at that.

"And the person who won the raffle would get the date. The two of them would share the goodies and enjoy themselves by the lake. The money would go to getting Hagrid a bigger chair."

"Ah, yes. Did you see when that half-breed oaf stood up and the chair was sticking to his-" She cleared her throat and smiled again at me. "He made all of us teachers look like fools."

"Well," I said uncomfortably, attempting a genuine smile. "That's my idea. What do you think of it?"

"It is a spectacular idea. I'm glad that young people are taking an interest in the welfare of their teachers. Would you happen to be one of the young ladies who are being raffled off…?" She cleared her throat once more.

"Yes," I squeaked.

"Then I shall definitely buy a ticket."

"Thank you." I squirmed under her gaze.

"I hope your LGBT group is doing well," she said, turning pink. Was she… blushing?

ooooooo

"Hey, Hannah," George said, stopping me in the hallway. Surprisingly his twin wasn't with him. "Are you all right? You look a little pale." He looked concerned.

I was still a little flustered around him because of our last encounter but I shook off his arm and said absently, "Uh huh."

He stooped slightly to look into my eyes. "Are you completely sure that you won't pass out or anything?"

"Nope."

"No you won't pass out or no you aren't completely sure?"

"I have to go, George," I replied dreamily. "I have a raffle to rig."

I ambled off unsteadily in a random direction, still weak from the power of Umbridge's blush.

**Thanks muchly to silverbirch, I Dance Alone, Spelunker, and TheFictionGeeksOfDoom for reviewing! **

**Not many laughs in this chapter. That'll pick up in the next one!  
**

**I have a question: do you all know what Furbies (or Furbys) are? No, this isn't a pointless question. You'll see in the next chapter. Any strange Furby stories? When I was little, I had one (it was pink!) and it annoyed me so much that I shoved it in the back of my closet. I could hear the devastated cries through the door. That was before I figured out how to turn it off. **

**-R**


	6. Master Furby

**DISCLAIMER: Again, the bid-on-a-basket idea (well, in my story it's a raffle) is not mine. It came from Gilmore Girls. Also, none of the characters are mine. Sadly.**

**Sorry in advance about this mini chapter. The next chapter will be up in a week at the latest. After the next chapter, I might not upload chapters as frequently. I have to read and reread some Hemingway. Post-its may be involved. **

_Hufflepuffs on Firebolts_

_Chapter 6_

"I SCREWED THOSE WEASLEY TWINS!" I howled maniacally as I entered our common room.

"Figuratively," Susan clarified quietly.

"And actually, _we_ screwed the twins," Eloise added to the disinterested Hufflepuffs.

"Figuratively," Susie repeated.

No one looked up. I scowled, annoyed. What girls have to do for attention….

"Ah well… At least they're not gonna be getting their hands on any firewhiskey." I said, softer. My rampant glee had faded from the lack of an audience. Where _were_ Justin and Ernie? They were always superb listeners. Or maybe it's my amazing charm that keeps their eyes glued to my face… in an almost trancelike state…

We had successfully bribed the house-elves to stop supplying those twins with firewhiskey. All we had to do was cure an alcoholic house-elf named Winky. Maybe we could try hypnotism first.

ooooooo

I yawned and noticed Winky's head drooping slightly. I hoped she was getting tired. I had been telling her that butterbeer was bad for her, but she still tried to steal that tiny flask that Eloise had strapped to her thigh. We had hoped that an unpleasant experience – like sticking your hand up Eloise's skirt - would be enough to put her off, but _noooo_.

We had successfully gotten rid of all of the butterbeer in the kitchens – or so we thought. Winky hid a bottle in the worst place: in the magically expanded refrigerator. That fridge was so huge that I bet a long-distance marathon could be run inside there. Maybe even a triathlon. I imagined floating through kilometers of chilled lemonade. Mmm…

Winky had also made decoy bottles of butterbeer. Somehow she had replicated the outside bottle. I don't know how – she has superpowers that could put Merlin to shame.

"Winky" I muttered sleepily from a slightly lopsided pinstriped armchair that Susie had conjured, "If you don't stop drinking butterbeer, your master will give you clothes and you'll have nowhere to go."

I heard a squeak, but yawned again, falling into a comfortable, warm slumber.

When I awoke, a horrifyingly sober Winky was zooming around the kitchen joyfully. If I hadn't seen her in her previous state, I would have thought she was drunk. The Winky at the present time was almost creepily happy.

"Susie. Why is Winky sober?" I tore my gaze from the elf.

"Oh. Um. Well." She looked away from me for a minute.

Suddenly I heard a cry. "Feed me. Feed me. Feed me." The spine-chilling, almost monotone voice was coming from behind Winky. She immediately stopped bouncing around and straightened up. "Yes Master Furby," she murmured reverently.

"It seems that Winky was displeased with her current master and couldn't stop thinking about Barty Crouch. So I had a Furby sent over here and charmed it to…"

"Say no more, Susie," I said, holding up a hand to stop her. I grinned and hugged her. "You're the best."

The other House-Elves crowded around. "Dobby is very grateful for your help." A large pair of disconcerting eyes stared up at Susan and me.

"So you agree not to supply Fred and George with any more firewhiskey?" I asked.

"Of course." Dobby bowed low, nose nearly touching the floor, and the other House-Elves scrambled to get us food.

ooooooo

Fred and George were livid.

They marched up to me while I was eating lunch in the Great Hall, attracting quite a few stares. Halting in front of me, both of their pairs of eyes were lit with a feral glow. I admit it. I got a mild to moderate case of the heebie jeebies.

"You stole our customers," George growled, blue eyes alit with fire. The sky rumbled a call, signaling late September rain.

I fought to keep my expression indifferent. "I was merely taking them_ back_."

"We could tell on you, you know," Fred said menacingly.

I laughed. "You're really going to _tell on me_?" Fred's eyes narrowed. "After all of the stuff that _you've_ done, you'd _tell _on_ me_?" I walked away.

"We know you're up to something…" someone called after me. I was assuming that it was George.

"And we're gonna find out what!"

I was worried, not doubting their words. With a sigh, I continued walking. The raffle would be starting soon and I really didn't want to have my face blotchy and red in anger.

ooooooo

I lined up along with the other 32 girls and their baskets in front of the High Table. The baskets were pretty on the outside (some short and squat, others tall and wide, with variations of ribbons delicately wrapped around) and were presently empty. By tomorrow these baskets would be filled with foods that human beings would be forced to eat. Whoever had to eat what was in my basket was in for a horrific surprise.

Lee Jordan announced each girl, one by one. He paused when he came to Angelina's name, giving the male population of Hogwarts a glare. He continued on, listing our names. "Each ticket costs one Galleon. The more tickets you buy, the better the chance is of you winning the girl and her basket. The winners will be called at noon tomorrow. Good luck everyone, and let the ticket-buying begin!"

Lee would probably spend at least 20 Galleons on Angelina. I sneered to myself as I watched a swarm of male students buying up tickets. I had calculated it all very well.

There was, however, one person who of didn't seem to be buying the idea. George Weasley stood at the edge of the swarm, arms crossed, eyes searing into mine, using his ginger kid powers to decipher my plan. I glared back. He was suspicious my motives… but I wouldn't be intimidated.

ooooooo

Late that night (so late that it could be considered early) we were filling our baskets in the kitchens. Susie stuffed hers with lovely smelling baked goods that were made by the House-Elves, while Eloise crammed hers with rancid cheeses that she had found in the garbage. "Eloise! Are you trying to _kill_ the poor boy so you won't have to go on the date with him?" Susan exclaimed.

I was still pondering what to put in mine. Cockroach clusters? Blood-flavored lollipops? Neither of them seemed quite right. I wished that I had come up with the disgusting cheese idea.

Suddenly I had an "AHA" moment! "Susie, do you still have that huge box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?"

"Yeah… but all the ones that are left are probably gross ones."

"Eloise, do you still have that unopened box of them?"

"Uh-huh," said Eloise slowly.

"I am suddenly extremely happy that you're too afraid to eat them," I said, smiling.

Eloise made an insulted noise as Susan said, "You aren't actually planning on _feeding_ them to someone, are you?"

My smile widened.

ooooooo

I had succeeded in switching the yucky beans in the open box with the mixed beans in the unopened box, then shrunk it to fit into my very innocent-looking basket – made of straw with brown and purple ribbons criss-crossing the handle, ending on one side in a cute bow.

Susan was droning on about the seemingly interminable rain while Eloise was uncharacteristically nibbling on her nails.

Soon it was noon, and we were once more lined up as Lee began to announce the winners. "Now… no one get frustrated if your ticket wasn't chosen. After all… it's just a raffle." He cleared his throat and bellowed the winners of the second years and their baskets.

Then he came to Angelina's name… "The winner of this fair lady and her basket is…." He dipped his hand into the cauldron in front of her and pulled out a piece of parchment. He glanced at it and an enraged expression took over his face. "There had been a small problem, which forces me to pick another name," he said in an expressionless voice.

"What's the problem?" Angelina asked exasperatedly, rolling her eyes. She strode up to him and snatched the ticket from his fingers, reading the name. "Fred Weasley," she announced. Then her eyes got wide. And she blushed. And dropped the ticket. And Fred came to stand in front of her. And stooped to pick up her ticket. He smiled and offered her his arm. She promptly melted.

Lee's mouth hung open for a few minutes. He seemed to go into a state of shock. George came over and dragged Lee away, then returned. "Erm… sorry for that. I'll resume in Lee's place, I suppose. Cho Chang and her basket go to… Harry Potter. Millicent Bulstrode and her basket go to… Vincent Crabbe," he announced unceremoniously. "Pansy Parkinson goes to… Gregory Goyle." Pansy's screech of shock might have been heard by Draco Malfoy, who was now in hiding in a broom closet with a blonde (dark-haired girls were never really his type).

George continued as if he hadn't heard Pansy scream. "Susan Bones and her basket go to… Justin Finch-Fletchley." Susie gave Justin a small smile, which he returned. "Eloise Midgen and her basket go to… Colin Creevy."

Eloise had an annoyed look on her face. She was probably thinking something along the lines of. 'Great, now I'm stuck with some Gryffindor twerp in his fourth year.' Then her expression changed and she beamed gleefully. 'He's in for a surprise.'

I almost laughed, but kept calm. I was the next, and last, to have my date announced. It would probably be Ernie. I sighed inwardly as George said, "And lastly, Hannah Abbott and her basket go to…" He stuck his hand into the cauldron before me. I could hear the rustling of paper and thought I would go mad at the suspense…

He pulled one out and scanned it. His jaw dropped. Lee, who had recovered, took the scrap from him. "George Weasley?" he read uncertainly. He turned to look at George. They exchanged a few whispered words, both mystified.

I took a few timid steps toward them and they immediately quieted. "What's going on?"

They traded meaningful glances, but George replied, "Nothing."

**Notice how I snuck in the month in this chapter? "September rain." Anyone? I'll be following a loose timeline throughout this story. I'm trying to keep it as close to the book as possible. I actually slipped up in one of the previous chapters, mentioning the Inquisitorial Squad (which hasn't been formed yet). Ignore it. **

**Thank you to…. **_**Madame J. Pontmercy**_**, **_**yellow 14**_**, **_**wishfulthinking123**_**, **_**Sally **_**(you should get a fanfic account; nice haunted Furby story, by the way), **_**TheFictionGeeksOfDoom, MidnightxRed**_**, **_**silverbirch**_**, and **_**Bree-tea **_**for reviewing! **

**-R**


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